


Bite Hard

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - GTA, Asexual Character, Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 12:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2651300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan and Asexual!Ray have recently gotten together, and they have a terrible habit of making out more than they talk. On a casual drive up to Mt Chiliad, the boys have some fun in the driver's seat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bite Hard

It’s been easy to get carried away with each other, and Ray hasn’t let himself think on it too much. Even as they drive without distraction or conversation, he doesn’t allow his mind to wander. It’s probably stupid, probably too teenaged, the way they jump each other whenever they’re left alone for more than a few minutes. It’s easier than talking, that’s for sure, and as much as Ray enjoys spending time with Ryan, he’s figured out that it’s easier to crawl into the other’s lap and breath from his lungs than to puncture Ryan’s cool silence.

They still talk, sure, but kissing has become something of a…. hobby, Ray supposes. Not only is it easy, but it’s predictable, and Ray can control it. Ryan /lets/ him control it. It’s right before the point of no return, before the point where Ryan loses himself in nails and skin and sweat. Ray doesn’t have any control then. 

The drive has been nice so far, but there’s no room for talking above the club music thrumming from the speakers in Ryan’s Pegassi Vacca. There’s no mission tonight; no meet up point, no deadline, no danger. Aside from breaking speed limit, of course. It’s relaxing to melt back into the passenger seat and watch the city blur by. The music reverberates in Ray’s chest and he closes his eyes; he feels the speed and the muscle of the car beneath him like he were running on the asphalt himself.

But Ryan has started slowing down. They’re nearing Mt Chiliad, where the highway turns to gravel road and there’s no one for miles. They always end up here in the end, no matter how far they go into the city, no matter how long they drive for. Chiliad promises silence and privacy and, lately, heat and closeness. 

Ray is watching Ryan’s hands stroking absentmindedly across the dash when the other starts kissing him. Ryan has his seatbelt on and he’s too far away, the kiss is too soft, and Ray’s lips chase his when he pulls away. Ryan’s still fucking driving, for christ’s sake, but when Ray flings his seatbelt off and launches himself over the console, the Vacca surges to a stop. Ray reaches out for purchase, the heel of his palm connecting with Ryan’s thigh, then his fingers close around it and he’s pressing his mouth to Ryan’s — mask.

Ray swears under his breath and pulls back to look at Ryan properly. The stupid skull hiding his face is hitched up just enough to show his mouth, but Ray had missed. He flings it back off Ryan’s head and leans in again, this time hitting him square on the lips.

Ryan’s arms wrap around his torso, pulling him closer. Ray shifts slowly as they kiss, and eventually he’s completely on top of Ryan in the driver’s seat, settling himself over Ryan’s lap with a thigh either side of his waist. He feels Ryan’s teeth scrape against his tongue as the denim of his trousers rocks up against Ray’s. Automatically, Ray lifts his hips, settles his weight on his knees so he’s hovering above the other, and smiles into the kiss at the sound of Ryan’s whine. 

Their teeth clack together once before Ray finally pulls back to make eye contact. It’s only brief as Ray stares at the menacing black paint around Ryan’s eyes, faded and smudged from a long day under the mask, before he dives in to press his lips and teeth and tongue to the crook of Ryan’s neck.

Ryan’s head tips back against the car seat, hands settling comfortably at Ray’s hips, fingers already pressing into his waistband. Ray can feel him shift as he tries to lift his hips to make some contact, but Ray is too far for his hips to reach. Ryan releases an indignant breath, yet keens into the increasing pressure where Ray’s teeth are at his pulse. Ray leans his head back slightly, pulling at the flesh, and Ryan releases another breath, but this one is louder and more contented. 

Ray only lifts his head when he’s sure Ryan’s new hickie is plenty large and plenty dark. He only has a moment to admire it before Ryan is chasing after his lips again, kissing harder, so that Ray is pushed back against the steering wheel. His spine arches and he bites down on Ryan’s tongue adamantly, but that only increases Ryan’s enthusiasm. With his mouth pushing Ray back, and his hands pulling Ray forward, Ray inevitably gives up and drops his hips back down to rest his weight on Ryan’s thighs. 

Just to get the last silent word, he does so with force, dropping down and rocking forward to catch Ryan off guard. One of them moans into the kiss and then Ryan’s hands are on Ray’s back, pushing up underneath his shirt and sinking his nails into his skin. The one-upmanship continues when Ray bites Ryan’s lip, far harder than necessary. Another quiet moan and a hitched breath, where Ray’s hips are grinding down hard while his hands rest so gently along Ryan’s jaw.

They break apart simultaneously, taking a moment to breath while their hands begin to wander. Ryan hands slide to Ray’s front, this time pushing his shirt up over his chest, while Ray’s snake their way into Ryan’s hair. He arches his back into Ryan’s hands and gives a sharp tug at his roots, causing Ryan’s jaw to drop involuntarily. He presses it to Ray’s chest, biting down on the boy’s collar and sucking sharply at the shelf of bone. Ray doesn’t relax his hands until Ryan pulls his lips away to reveal a new, tender bruise on Ray’s chest.

From where they held his shirt up, Ryan’s hands now wander back down to his hips, this time moving further until they’re cupping his ass. He squeezes the denim, sending Ray’s back into another little arch, before he dips them underneath his waistline and to hold him snug beneath his clothes. Ray knows how much Ryan loves to touch; just to feel his skin in his palms, to grab and squeeze to feel the heat of his body and his goosebumps rise. This time, he aids Ray’s hips down, and they rock their hips together, starting back into a steady rhythm.

They finally lean back into another kiss. It’s achingly rough, mixing hot saliva and numbing lips as their tongues suck and press, then sometimes bite. When Ray gets too caught up and scrapes his teeth too hard against Ryan’s tongue, Ryan pulls back just enough to capture Ray’s bottom lip in his mouth, biting it without warning. Ray doesn’t get the chance to moan or tease before Ryan’s teeth pierce, splitting his lip and making him cry out in shock. He can feel Ryan’s tongue immediately press against the cut, licking the hot and coppery blood carefully along the split to widen the gash and flare up the sting. Ray’s brows are knotted tightly together, his pain silencing him, but his hips are rocking desperately against Ryan’s.

Uncertain what else to do, Ray just pulls his hair, a sharp tug that knocks Ryan’s head aside. He feels Ryan’s nails dig sharply into the cheeks of his ass but he does it again, ripping at his hair until Ryan actually snarls at him and pulls his hands out from Ray’s jeans in one quick motion. 

Ray sits back against the steering wheel, catching his breath, bringing his hands up to his face so he can feel the cut on his lip. He doesn’t have much time before Ryan has dropped the seat back, hooked his arm around Ray’s waist and flipped them over so Ray is laying down in the reclined driver’s seat. As much as Ray loves to stay on top in the Vacca, he feels himself caving in to Ryan’s influence, and allows the other man to take control.

Ryan’s hands cup his jaw, thumbs pressing into his pressure points as he straddles Ray’s thighs. He tilts Ray’s head up, sucking down on his adam’s apple, then again on the side of his neck. His teeth pinch, but don’t pierce, as he rocks himself against Ray’s stomach. He’s a little too high to bump crotches, but Ray is happy to focus on the hands and lips and sharp breathing from the other man. It’s oddly arousing to see what his body can do to Ryan’s, to see how their games can send him into a frenzy of oversensitivity. 

It’s not long before they’re kissing again, fair play this time, just lips and tongues and the gentlest nudging of teeth. Ryan’s hands wander back down to lift Ray’s shirt, finding comfort in pressing his palms against Ray’s flat pecs. His hands massage gently as his hips speed up, frotting like a teenage boy against his partner’s middle. When Ryan seems close, Ray dares to nip his lip, testing the waters before biting down and returning the favour from before. His lip still stings something terrible, but it’s so satisfying to feel the twitch of Ryan’s fingers when Ray licks at the blood he’s exposed. 

Ryan’s breathing soon becomes laboured and he can’t focus on kissing, just hovers their lips together and breathes heavily against Ray’s open mouth. It’s then that Ray finally reaches down and presses the heel of his palm against the bulge in Ryan’s jeans. He immediately feels Ryan’s fingernails cut into his chest and his hips falter a second later, losing their rhythm as Ray begins to massage. 

Ryan’s head drops into the crook of Ray’s neck, his mouth still open and resting loosely against his skin. He feels Ryan shudder when he comes, back arching and teeth locking onto Ray’s neck to bite hard and muffle any noise that threatens to fall from his throat.

 

Outside the air is cold and the sky is dark, clouds threatening to dampen their night. They sit against the hood of the car, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the peak of Mt Chiliad. Ray’s eyes droop sleepily as his head lulls to one side, and Ryan automatically slips an arm around his waist. His other hand is held straight out in front of him, aiming a pistol at the rock face some twenty yards away from them. Although Ray is tired, he keeps his eyes pried open to watch Ryan’s shot as he fires in quick succession at the bulls-eye they had sprayed onto the rocks three weeks earlier.

Ryan squints into the darkness, waiting for the dust to clear and lowers his gun.

“Got it,” Ray murmurs at the successful shot.

“Got you,” Ryan quips, and throws the empty gun to the gravel at their feet.


End file.
